


Our Footprints in the Sand

by Shaye



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Fic, F/M, Foul Language, Mentions of Mental Illness and Death, Mentions of miscarriage, Pregnancy, Romance, post episode 3x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaye/pseuds/Shaye
Summary: After Happy's surprise announcement, there are a lot of missing moments to be explored. Toby and Happy are not perfect, but they're working on finding their way back to one another. Now, with a baby on the way, things are only more stressful. But, with time, things can change and people can grow. After all, "sometimes people need to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the trigger warnings for mentions of death, mental illness, and miscarriage.  
> Also, yes, I did a lot of research for this, but no, I am not a doctor. So, don't quote me on all the medical jargon :)

Toby can name the number of times he’s been speechless on one hand. The first time he came home to find his mother having a violent outburst, his father too drunk to help calm her. The day his father’s organs failed and he died before Toby had a chance to say goodbye. And then there was  _ her _ . Someone who simultaneously made him the happiest man alive and the most miserable, scared little boy in the world. There was a force about her that he could only explain in hundreds of strings of words because one phrase would not suffice. Regardless, he liked to call it love. The only problem was that sometimes it felt more like pain than anything else. The third time he was speechless, she told him she was married. The fourth? She told him she was pregnant. The last two in the span of a week were too much. It was information overload; his systems were compromised and, at the same time, given another reason to continue fighting. There was no simple solution to the madness that had become his life.

 

So he remains silent. One minute passes. Twenty-two seconds more. He hears Cabe usher the others to their respective desks. Thirty seconds. Happy begins to fiddle with the rings on her fingers.  _ Rings _ , he scoffs at the thought so silently that he wonders if she heard.  _ Married. To Walter. _ Information processing error. If only that was the case. Three minutes, eleven seconds. His eyes relax and his mouth closes.

 

“Oh.” The words stick in his throat. He winces at the crack in his voice, the change in his tone, the lilt disappearing. The mix of confusion, sadness, anger, surprise, and hope mingle together to show no emotion at all.

 

Happy looks up at him, squinted eyes and pursed lips. “Please, say something.” She forces the plea out of her lips. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking. She can’t read his emotions as well as he reads hers. She’s not the behaviorist in the relationship. Speaking isn’t her forte. 

 

“Thank you for telling me.” His voice doesn’t shake. It isn’t meant to be biting, but Happy flinches anyway. She knows she would have deserved the jab. “I...I need some air.” He closes his eyes briefly, pointing to the door. And then, without another word, he leaves and she feels cold. Their story just continues to become messier and messier, and she knows it’s her fault.

 

Outside, Toby leans against the brick of the garage, closing his eyes and breathing--just breathing. “Dammit,” he mutters, kicking his foot. His thoughts are racing and yet again he feels like he is not meant for the good. He face palms as he contemplates the last five minutes. How can he be when he’s running out on the one thing he’s ever wanted; the love he’s always hoped for?

 

Exhaling deeply, Toby braces himself for the conversation he’s about to have. He pulls open the door, only to be surprised at the woman standing before him, caught reaching for the handle. “I--” Happy begins, “Coffee run.” She comes up with, grateful her keys are in her back pocket. She points to her truck. “See you later,” she adds as she heads toward her parking spot.

 

“Hap, wait,” Toby takes a few steps forward. He places his hand on her shoulder and feels her freeze, stiff and uncomfortable. “Can you look at me?” He tries to relax. “Please?” He asks again. Turning slowly, she faces him. She’s backed up a few steps and isn’t looking him in the eyes, but it’s a start. “I’m sorry for how I reacted.”

 

She shakes her head. “ _ You’re  _ sorry?” She just keeps shaking her head.

 

“About the baby.” He tilts her chin up, grateful at her lack of resistance to the gesture. “I love her already.”

 

“Or him,” Happy pipes up without thinking. She quickly looks down again. 

 

“I think it’s going to be a girl.” The corners of his lips lift up.

 

“Why?”

 

“Just a feeling.”

 

“That’s not very logical, Doc.” She tries to laugh, but it’s too forced to lighten the mood. “You just found out about It ten minutes ago.”

 

“Don’t call the baby an It.” He shakes his head. “That won’t do.” He thinks for a moment. “I like Bean.”

 

“Bean?”

 

“To call the baby until we know the sex.” 

 

She chances a glance in his direction. “You’re okay with this?” She’s hopeful, too hopeful she thinks. Good things don’t happen to Happy Quinn. She breaks things instead.

 

Toby nods gently. “Yeah,” he says airily. “Yeah, I really do.” She looks up at him, holding his gaze this time. “I never really considered myself father material. The cool uncle, maybe. Not the dad. But I think I like the idea of a little you and me running around.” Happy remains silent. “We love each other and want to be together. We can figure this out.”

 

Hardening her gaze to prevent the stubborn tears from attempting to fall (these hormones are really giving it to her), she takes a few deep breaths. “I think I want this, too.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Happy nods. “I’ve thought about it a bit. I could get used to the idea.”

 

“Okay, but are you sure? It’s a decision that’s yours and only yours to make.”

 

Pulling her arms to her chest, Happy readies herself for the emotional fallout. “I’m sure.”

 

“Okay.” He nods.

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay.” He grabs her hands, pulling her a step closer to him. “We’re going to be okay. All three of us.” Then, shaking his head, Toby asks, “Were you really going to get coffee? You know, caffeine is not good for the baby and research shows that it stunts growth and our child is half you so--”

 

She hits him in the arm, just hard enough to make a point. “I know and I wasn’t. I just,” she falters, “wanted to check on you.”

 

He gives her a tiny smile, no words necessary. Leading her back inside, he closes the door and whispers, “We’re going to have a baby!”

 

“We just covered that.”

 

“I know. It’s just exciting.” He shrugs.

 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She nods a little too quickly. 

 

“Are you okay?” He knows it’s silly to ask, she’s clearly not okay, but he extends the offer regardless.

 

“Mmhmm.” She releases his hand and turns toward her work station. 

 

He wants to call her out on it, tell her she’s doing it again--blocking him out and lying--but he bites his tongue. They didn’t need to have that conversation with the rest of the team present. It was bad enough the two of them had to deal with it. 

 

The day passes slowly after the drama of the afternoon, even though it’s only an hour till they call it quits and a job well done. Toby is grateful for the end of the day, but even more grateful that Happy has already made plans with Patrick tonight. He needs time to process without her, without anyone for that matter. His brain is becoming too loud again and he could really use  a shot of tequila right now. He winces at the memory of the horrid hangover following his proposal. Maybe not tequila. Nevertheless, he walks over to her desk, taking note of the careful touch of her nimble fingers, her stare of concentration, the scrunch of her brow as she works. “Night.”

 

She looks up, still cautious. “Good night.”

  
Walking away, he adds an “I love you.” He’s not happy and things aren’t anywhere near fixed, but he does not want to question his love. It’s the one thing that has always held true. Still, he doesn’t look back to meet her eyes.

 

The drive home is numbing as he blasts his classic rock and follows his usual route on autopilot. He hopes the noise is loud enough to overpower the endless stream of questions buzzing around his head. But, of course, he isn’t that lucky.

 

He’s in the door as quickly as possible, pulling a beer out of the fridge and kicking back on the couch. He tries to convince himself that it’s normal, just another day. If only that was the truth. 

 

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?” He asks aloud, ignoring the psychological reasoning behind talking to oneself. He pushes off his hat, letting it drop behind him, pulling at his curls. “Why was it such a big secret if it doesn’t mean anything?” He grabs the remote and settles on Looney Tunes. 

 

_ “The truth is, I am falling for the guy.” He hears the slight waver in her voice. _

 

_ “Gross,” Ralph responds. _

 

_ “I know, right?” _

 

Unfortunately, it was the wrong time for a trip down memory lane. He turns the television off. Sighing, he reaches over to the coffee table to grab a recent psychological study. Reading the title, “ Conceptualizing and treating pathological gambling: A motivationally enhanced cognitive behavioral approach,” he flinches.

 

_ “I cannot have the rug pulled out from under me again!” _

 

_ “I won’t.” He tilts his head. “I love you.” Taking another breath, he adds, “My gambling...it’s a shadow of what it was.” _

 

He didn’t expect her to pull the rug out from under him.  _ That would have been nice to know.  _ He shakes his head at the thought. He knows nothing else would help. She’s everywhere. In the months they had been together, his apartment became hers. Her jacket is still on the floor, in the corner, thrown a while back during a night of passion. A picture of the two of them is still hanging on the fridge. The endless supply of fortune cookies from their nights of takeout are still piled on the kitchen counter. 

 

Resigning himself for the night--and avoiding making any bad decisions--he turns out the light and checks the lock on the door. Walking into his bedroom, he strips down to his boxers and a t-shirt and flops onto the bed. The bed that still smells like her. He closes his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, his sleep would bring some peace.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up to a quiet, but persistent little knock. Furrowing his brows, Toby rolls out of bed and slides his arms into his robe, still half asleep and cursing the person ruining it for him. “I’m coming,” he mumbles. Finally, he makes his way to the front door, unlocking it without even checking the peephole.

 

“Hi,” Happy says, at a loss for more words (they were never really her thing, anyway). 

 

He wakes up as the situation begins to register. “Hi.” Noticing her lack of movement, he gestures inside. “Coming in?” She doesn’t answer, but she walks in anyway. He rubs his eyes to rid some of the exhaustion. “Want some coffee?” He shakes his head. “Or tea?”

 

“You don’t have tea.”

 

“I have orange juice.” He opens the fridge, grabbing the carton. Spying the expiration date on the label, he says, “Nevermind.”

 

“I’m fine.” Happy says, looking small as she stands in the middle of his apartment, seemingly unsure of what to do next. 

 

He chuckles, a slight harshness to the sound. “You can sit down, ya know.” She just keeps fiddling with her rings. “Hap,” he reaches out to place a gentle hand on her back, “Sit down.”

 

She doesn’t fight his gentle nudge to move toward the couch and gingerly sets herself as far into the corner as possible. Crossing her legs in front of her, she begins to tap a near mindless rhythm on her combat boots. Toby moves to sit on the chair, which seems too close and too far at the same time; it’s a feeling they both have no way to resolve.

 

Sensing his questioning glance, Happy tries to steady her voice, perfecting it to the unemotional lilt she had used too many times to count. “I know you’re mad--”

 

“I’m--”

 

“I know you’re mad,” she repeats. “You don’t have to deny it. I’m not actually a robot.” She tries to laugh.

 

“I know.”

 

“And I know you.” She clenches her hands into fists, trying to displace the anxiety coursing through her veins. 

 

“I know you, too,” Toby says automatically. Pausing for a second, he adds a quiet, “Or I thought I did.”

 

She winces at the reminder. “You do.”

 

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“It didn’t seem like that big a deal.”

 

“Marriage is a big deal.”

 

“But it wasn’t. I didn’t think--it just wasn’t.” She shakes her head. “I told you. He was a friend in need. If I didn’t marry him, he would be deported and we wouldn’t have Scorpion.” She looks up from her lap. “It wasn’t real.”

 

Toby believes her. He knows that, in her mind, it was never something she thought would impact her future. He knows that she didn’t mean to hurt him. But the anger, the jealousy, is all too very real and for every medical journal he’s ever read, he still doesn’t know how to deal with this pain. 

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking that we still haven’t gotten an obstetrician. Or did you?”

 

“I mean about marrying Walter.” She forces herself to keep his gaze.

 

“You did what you had to do.” He shakes out his hands, stands up, and moves to sit next to her on the couch. 

 

She stares at him a minute, unsure of how to proceed. She knows he’s not one hundred percent okay, but she also doesn’t want to push him even further away.

 

“Now, did you find an OB yet?” He shifts to face her better.

 

“No.” She shakes her head. “I, uh, kind of put it together myself. I took a test. Positive,” she shrugs. “Went to the clinic.”

 

“The clinic?” He asks. “What about your regular doctor?” He searches her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been skipping out on seeing doctors this whole time.” Her tight lips betray her. “We have healthcare through Scorpion! How many years has it been since you’ve seen a doctor?”

 

“I see you everyday.”

 

He gives her a disappointed look and she almost can’t handle it.“Nine years,” she surrenders.   
  
“Nine!” He sighs. “Sweetheart, that’s not exactly a smart practice.” He pulls out his phone. “I could call some of my med school buddies. See if they know anyone.” 

 

“I don’t want--”

 

“You can’t do this alone.”

 

“I know.” She shrugs. “You’re a doctor. Can’t you do it?”

 

“I can’t be your doctor for this. Personal entanglements and all that.” He finishes texting his plea for recommendations. “And I’m not even an OB. I’m a psychiatrist.”

 

“You delivered a baby before.” She angles her body more toward him. “You’re the one who always says you’re a doctor.”

 

He places his hand on her knee. “I know you don’t like doctors. But this isn’t really a negotiable topic. You need to see one. Especially with the our work and--”

 

“My mom.” Happy places her hand over his as she struggles to keep her breathing in check. “I’m high-risk.”

 

“We don’t know that yet.”

 

“Come on, Doc. You said we have to look at the reality of the situation.” She stiffens to contain the shudder that runs up her spine. “I’ve already had time to think about it.” Seeing the slight deflation in his posture, she adds, “I only found out two days ago. I was trying to find the right time to tell you.”

 

“And telling me after tackling Walter, in front of the whole team, was?”

 

She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. “No.” She removes her hand from his, trying to allow him distance. “I didn’t know what to tell Walter. Everyone was watching. And I needed you to know.”

 

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, awkward as the position is, he kisses her temple. “You were scared.”

 

“No, I wasn’t.” She sighs. “Maybe a little nervous.”

 

“It’s okay to be scared, my Turtle Dove.”

 

“I’m not scared.” She shakes her head quickly.

 

“Okay, I’ll drop it.” He pulls his arm back as his phone starts ringing. “Hey,” Toby answers before Paige’s voice filters over the line. “It’s that late?” He pulls his phone away from his cheek, spying that the day really is almost over. He slept the day away. “Be there soon.”

 

“Twenty,” Paige says.

 

“Mmhmm.” Toby ends the call. “We’re late for work.”

 

Looking at her watch, Happy’s eyes widen. “I didn’t realize.”

 

“Let me go get dressed.” He stands up. “Ride together?”

 

Surprised, Happy nods. “Sure. I brought my truck.”

 

Within thirty minutes, they’re at the garage and Walter is looking displeased. “I thought you said twenty minutes.”

 

Toby drops his messenger bag. “No, Paige did.” He takes a seat at his desk. “I had to shower.”

 

Happy thinks about teasing him--something about how long he showers--but the joke dies on her tongue. She can feel the tension in the garage; everyone trying not to stare and question, but doing it anyway.

 

She tries to ignore them, walking to the kitchen instead, and makes a cup of decaf coffee. Turning around, she comes face to face with Paige. “We need to put a bell on you or something. Give a warning that you’re coming.”

 

“Very funny,” Paige says dryly. “Are you okay?”

 

“About the married thing or the baby thing?”

 

“Both, I guess.”

 

Happy takes a sip from her mug. She shrugs.

 

“At least now all the questioning about parents and kids makes sense.” Paige reaches an arm out to place a hand on Happy’s shoulder. “You and Toby are going to be okay.” She removes her hand, careful to mind Happy’s boundaries. “And your baby will be, too.” Turning, she calls over her shoulder: “Let me know if you need anything.”

 

Happy won’t admit it, but the simple sentiments lighten the stress. “Thanks, Dineen,” she whispers. 

 

However, before long she makes her way to the back of the garage to find Toby and Walter arguing quietly. She walks over and hears Toby’s voice raise. “So you did kiss her?”

 

_ Crap _ , Happy thinks. This is her life for the time being. This is the sound of her relationship falling apart...again. “It wasn’t like we enjoyed it.” Her voice is clear and pointed.

 

“Exactly,” Walter pipes up.

 

“It was gross.” And that was the truth. She never felt anything more than friendship for Walter and this marriage was just a means to an end.

 

“Come on,” Walter nearly whines. Happy looks at him. None of this is helping.

 

“I don’t want to hear any more.” Toby puts up his hands. “I just want to focus on convincing the INS that your marriage is not a fraud because the sooner you get your citizenship, sooner you get divorced, sooner we can tie the knot and give a legit home to the genius bun in Happy’s baby oven.”

 

She exhales, watching even more emotions pass over Toby’s face. She really wishes she had paid more attention to Toby’s analysis of facial expressions. “It’s all going to be okay,” Walter says. “Our honeymoon album.” He sets it on the table while Happy takes another swig of her coffee. “It’s Tahiti!” She watches Toby’s face contort. “INS couldn’t tell six years ago when we were first vetted, so we’ll be able to dupe them again.”

 

Toby clearly disagrees. “There’s no joy. There’s no emotion. Who was your INS caseworker? Mr. MaGoo?” 

 

“Mr. Haverbrook,” Happy corrects. “He was eighty-two.”

 

“We were one of his last cases before he retired.”

 

“He had cataracts.” 

 

Just as Toby is about to comment, Cabe walks in, still on the phone. After discussing his latest struggle with a in-home plumber, he mentions their private job at the Los Angeles Museum of Science and History. 

 

Before long, the team has packed up and is heading to the museum. They still feel the awkwardness in the air, but it is somewhat alleviated by Toby choosing a seat next to Happy. They don’t speak, though, both lost in their own thoughts. Toby, although it was reassuring to see the lack of emotion between the two, knows that the INS will never fall for the pictures. They’re going to have a problem passing the interview and that cannot happen. Not with their little Bean so close to being born.

 

Upon arriving, Walter and Happy go straight to work, while Sly, Toby, and Paige slow their walk to see some of the pieces and sculptures. 

 

“Guys, can we please focus?” Walter asks. 

 

“We’re coming,” Paige says, shuffling the men along. 

 

“See you later, suckers.” Cabe begins to leave. “I’m going to go check out some weapons.”

 

The others barely acknowledge him, only turning at Toby’s, “Dammit.” He turns to Walter. “I only have five of the six chemicals. I forgot to mix the last one.”

 

“What do you mean you forgot?” Walter asks, annoyance seeping into his voice.

 

“I packed a bottle of this indigestion medicine because I was going to use it’s bismasubsolicitate for a little kick to my potion. I saw I had six bottles in the bag. My mind registered I had what I needed when I really didn’t. Been a little distracted lately. My bad.” His tone sharpens slightly at the end as much as he attempts to curb it. 

 

Paige nods and steps in to prevent a meltdown. “I’ll drive you back to the garage so you can whip up what you need.”

 

“Thanks.” He stands up, quickly pulling off his two layers of jackets. Taking the top coat, he hands it to Happy and ignores the questioning glances from Sly and Walter. “In case you get cold later. Studies show that warming--”

 

“Toby, she’s fine. Come on.” Walter feels the lack of efficiency. “You’re holding everybody up.”

 

Looking around and feigning confusion, Toby snarks, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is something that I’m doing interfering with your life? Gee. I wonder how that feels.” The familiar bubble of hurt and anger swells up again.

 

“I took it,” Happy says. She stands up. “Go.”

 

“I love you.” He wants her to know it’s still the truth. He wants some semblance of pre-announcement bliss to be present. And, maybe, he’s hoping she’ll reaffirm it for him, too.

 

“Go.” Then again, they’re in public and she’s not one to prefer words. He turns around, trying to remain calm.  _ Everything is going to be fixed. Happy’s going to get a divorce. Happy is going to marry me. Happy is going to have my child. We’re going to be a family. _ It’s a mantra cycling through his head again and again. 

 

“So, how are you doing?” Paige asks after a few minutes on the road. “I know this can’t be easy.”

 

“It’ll be fine.” His voice is deliberate and slow.

 

“You didn’t answer the question.” Paige smiles in his direction. “You have to talk about it. Nothing is going to get better if you don’t. I would think a Harvard-trained psychiatrist would know a thing or two about that.”

 

He sighs. He’s unsure of whether he appreciates Paige’s insistence on the matter. “I’m...processing,” he settles on the word. 

 

“Okay.” Paige turns to him when the light turns red and she comes to a stop. “But just, think about it? Okay?”

 

Toby nods. “Sure.”

 

“Now let’s grab the chemicals and get back to the museum.”

 

* * *

 

After finally finishing his job with the chemicals, Toby risks a walk over to Happy. “Hey, Sugar Plum.”

 

She looks around, a tiny scowl on her face. She doesn’t respond, though.

 

He sighs. He knows how much she’s holding back. “I think we should talk.”

 

She lets out a shaky exhale. “We’re at work.”

 

“We have a few minutes.”

 

She surrenders, letting her shoulders sag. “What do you want to talk about?”

 

Nevertheless, as Toby opens his mouth, he’s interrupted by a quiet call from Walter. Before they know it, a heist has begun and there’s no time for idle chit-chat. It’s not until the next morning that the team actually makes it back to the garage and, when they do, they are absolutely exhausted. 

 

“Want to crash at my place?” Toby asks as she drives a little too quickly back to his apartment.

 

“Well--”

 

“It’s fine.” He tries to reassure her. He wonders when the ease of their connection began to fade away. 

 

“Okay.” Happy turns on her blinker, watching the road carefully. “As long as it’s alright with you.”

 

“‘Course it is.” He gives her a tiny smile, which is enough to lessen the tension for the ten minutes it takes to get home.

 

Both Happy and Toby slip easily into their own routines; Toby changes into more comfortable clothes and Happy rinses her face in the bathroom. Settling onto the couch, Happy refuses the offer from Toby to borrow his clothes and sleep in his bed. It’s all a little too much.

 

He breathes deeply, unable to decide whether distance or proximity is worse, and surrenders himself to sleep. Happy, on the other hand, can’t get comfortable. She doesn’t know if it’s the couch or her mind, or maybe a little of both, but soon enough she’s pacing back and forth. Through the kitchen, around the island, to the living room, around the couch, then back and forth again. There’s so much guilt laden with this pregnancy. She’s left too much unsaid for far too long. As if the pregnancy isn’t terrifying enough.

 

Shaking her head, she exhales and grabs her bag. She’s out the door and into her truck in minutes, hitting the gas pedal and driving aimlessly. She can’t decide on a place that feels safe enough to stop. A place that also won’t bring back every conversation with Toby that she’s ever had.

 

And when Toby wakes up a few hours later, searching his apartment for the sassy love of his life, he feels his heart shatter a little more. The anger flows in between the cracks and, suddenly, he’s in the car and stopping at all of her frequented locations. Not that it makes much of a difference: she never stops driving.

 

As he walks into work the next morning, he squares his shoulders and prepares himself for impact. He’s almost relieved to find that she has yet to arrive. At least, until the time begins to tick by. When the hour turns into two and the two turns into three, he’s panicking. He’s already called her five times and left her three voicemails. The rest of the team has called as well. 

 

“I’m going to go check her apartment,” Toby says. He looks at Walter. “Don’t try to stop me.”

 

“I was not going to.” He turns back to his work. “Please tell us if you find her.”

 

Toby gives what he hopes looks like a nod as he picks up his keys and sets out to search again. Getting into his car, he bangs on the steering wheel.  _ Where the hell is she? _

 

It’s been twenty-eight hours. He still hasn’t found her. Unlocking the door to his apartment, he continues to check off his mental list.  _ Apartment? No. Patrick’s? No. Cafe 50’s? No. Garage? No. _ And then he stops in his tracks. For there, sitting on his couch, with her legs folded before her, is Happy. Before he can stop himself, a biting, “Where have you been?” crosses his lips.

 

If she’s startled by his tone, she doesn’t show it. “Driving.”

 

“Driving where?” He throws down his jacket, not caring about where it ends up. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Dammit, Happy. Why the hell did you think just up and leaving was a brilliant idea?” He doesn’t wait for her to answer. “I have been going through hell thinking something happened to you. Or that you decided to leave for good this time. Just tell me. What was going through your head? Did you even plan to come back?” 

 

She cowers slightly at his words, before straightening her back and forcing her breathing to level. Toby would say it’s some kind of defense mechanism. She pushes the thought from her mind. “I would never do that to you!” She stands up, hands crossing over her chest. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

 

“Well apparently you’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

 

“I told you why.”

 

“But you let me suffer for days. You wouldn’t even come clean after you said you were married. I had to go to Collins!”

 

“No, you had no right to talk to him about our personal life like that.” She knows it’s petty, but Collins rubs her the wrong way. She thinks Toby should agree, considering all Collins put him through.

 

“Our personal life was a lie. You kept it from me.”

 

“Okay, I lied about marrying Walter. But it was strictly for his green card. When I signed the papers I didn’t expect it to be such a big deal.” She shakes out her hands and begins motioning between them. “This, this is all real. It’s always been real.” She stumbles a little on the words she’s felt for so long. “I love you.” She crosses her arms across her chest once more and, for the first time, Toby takes note of how pointedly she is avoiding coming into contact with her stomach. “That’s what matters.”

 

He takes another few counted breaths. He knows in his heart that it’s the truth. He knows that he loves her, too. It’s just been a lot to come to terms with. “I know.” He puts his hands up. “I know,” he repeats. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I know.” He takes a tiny step forward. “I love you, too.” He gently tips her chin up. “Maybe we skipped a step.” He shrugs. “We’ve been trying to act like everything's normal, but it’s not. And we never really talked about that part. Just the answers, not the feelings.” He stops, looking at her curiously. “Are you crying?”

 

She shakes her head, internally cursing her body for betraying her. “No.”

 

“Hap--” He leads her over to the couch and sits himself next to her once she’s settled. “It’s okay to cry.”

 

“No, it’s not.” She blows out a breath of air. “I don’t cry.”

 

“Okay.” He doesn’t push her. He just lets her sit for a few minutes and collect herself. After the time passes, she looks into her lap. “Maybe just a little.”

 

“It’s normal. One, it’s a high-stress situation. And two, you’re hormones are doing the cha-cha slide right now.” She chuckles a little. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because we’re best friends. We’ve always made it work and now is no different.” He places his hand on her knee. “I’m still upset that you lied to me. I know why you did it and I understand. But it’s going to take a little while for things to go back to normal.”

 

She looks over to meet his eyes. “But they will?” She sniffles. “Go back to normal, I mean.” 

 

He nods. “To be honest, I’m already starting to feel better. I’m sorry we had to fight for that to happen, though.”

 

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have left. I couldn’t sleep and I just went for a drive.” She closes her eyes. “I’m kind of flying blind here, Doc.”

 

His eyes lock in on her stomach. “So am I.” He returns his gaze to her eyes. “But running away isn’t going to solve any of our problems. We have to work through this together.”

 

“I know.” She nods. “For the record, I was not planning on leaving forever. I just needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else.” She shrugs, trying to play it off as nonchalant. “I’m a little worried.”

 

Toby cups her cheek. “I’m terrified,” he confides. “It’s normal to be scared.”

 

“I just can’t stop thinking,” she confesses. “About my mom and my parents and foster care.”

 

“Won’t happen to Bean.”

 

“And our work. What happens if one of us gets hurt?”

 

“We’ll protect each other. And if something bad were to really happen, we’d still raise our Bean with the help of the team. We’re not alone.”

 

“At the chemist, I put a mask over my face to protect It from the chemicals. What about the other times we’ve been in danger? She’s probably already unsafe.” Happy wrings her hands together. “What about Chernobyl?”

 

“Hey, hey,” Toby soothes. “First of all, that wasn’t your fault. We shouldn’t have been expected to go to a place like that in the first place.”

 

“But we did go.”

 

“We did.” He moves his hand to her shoulder, rubbing gently. “And it was about the equivalent of three full-body cat scans in one day. Let’s break this down logically.” He pauses for her nod. “One cat scan is about 12 mSv in terms of radiation. Chernobyl would then be approximately 36 mSv. How far along are you?”

 

“About six weeks.”

 

Tobys smiles at the memory of  _ that _ night. “So you were about four or five weeks during Chernobyl. Between three and eight weeks of pregnancy, the embryo is not affected by radiation in terms of birth defects and miscarriage. You’re okay, Hap. Bean is going to be just fine.”

 

With shaky hands, she asks, “Are you sure?”

 

“Relatively positive. If I’m wrong, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

She gives him a tender smile. “You knew that off the top of your head?”

 

“I might have had some time to read over a few research articles this morning. Had to read several of the stages of development because I wasn’t positive about the time frame.”

 

She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

 

He smiles. “Thanks for sharing your fears with me.” However, his smile dims as he considers his next question. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“I think not talking is what got us into this situation.” She nods. “Go ahead.”

 

“Do you really only want to marry me because of Bean?”

 

She squints, tilting her head. “Why would you think that?”

 

“Well, you said you needed to marry me and--”

 

“Toby, I want to marry you.” She grabs his nearest hand. “Not just for It.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.” 

  
“And can you stop calling our baby ‘It?’” Toby jokes. With a shaky breath, Happy nods. “She’s going to be great. It’s okay to get attached.” 

 

She appreciates that he understands her unspoken hesitation. “Maybe our baby is a boy.”

 

“Nah, I think it’s a girl.” He thinks for a moment, contemplating his next words. “Do you mind if I--” he looks to her stomach, “feel her?”

 

Happy’s shoulders tighten. “She’s not even kicking yet.”

 

“I’m aware.” Toby says. “I just want to formally meet Bean. She’ll know you because you’re carrying her. But me?”

  
“Okay,” Happy says.

 

“Okay?”

 

“I want her to know you, too.” She relaxes her body. 

 

Placing his hand on her still-flat stomach, Toby whispers, “Hi, Bean. I’m your daddy.” Looking up at Happy, he takes her hand and guides it to her stomach for the first time. “And there’s Mommy.” At his high-pitched voice and gentle hand wrapped around hers, Happy’s eyes brighten. Maybe this wouldn’t be so scary after all. They have each other. And that’s always been enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it--this was begging to be written (and I wrote most of it while I was supposed to be doing school work...oops?).
> 
> And many thanks to Tara (lattelibrapunk) for being an awesome beta/reviewer, as per usual!


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